


Amis, le monde entier

by Ezeka3l



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Interpret Louis, Louis Tomlinson Speaks French, M/M, Museums, Paris (City), Sort Of, Translator Louis, composer harry, conductor harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-04 07:15:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20467133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ezeka3l/pseuds/Ezeka3l
Summary: Louis had absolutely no idea why he was here.He hated this city, could not stand it. He had made some good memories here, that was undeniable, still, that did not erase the fact that he despised the self titled ‘City of Love’. Louis knew, though, that it was called the City of Light. Nevermind that, why was he still standing here ?Harry was ecstatic. He had so much on his mind, so many things planned and so little time to do it. This was the most romantic place on earth to him, that would not change, he was sure of it.He had just arrived and there he was, already planning his next trip. Why wouldn’t he come back though?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This has been a journey. It is my first Larry fic, my first fic written in English and my first completed story.
> 
> I would never have made it this far without my wonderful Beta/ Brit picker B (tumbler @toomanylarrytears) so thank you for your support B!! 
> 
> Love E

** _Saturday, 8 August 2026 - Paris, Gare du Nord - 9:30 Paris Time_ **

  
  


Nine-thirty. Nine bloody thirty! It was like being in secondary school all over again. How Louis didn’t miss the field trips. Yet here he was, 34 years of age, waiting for his friend who had booked both of their train tickets and had somehow managed to forget about their long-awaited lads’ holiday when his boss had needed someone last minute to commentate a golf tournament. What a dickhead!

Louis’ mood seemed to grow impossibly more sombre as he recalled their conversation. “Sorry mate! I’ve always wanted to go to the Northern Ireland Open. You can wait for me for two little hours, right?” he had said, not an ounce of regret in his voice. “Well, not when I have to take the train at 7 o’ fucking clock in the morning, Neil,” Louis had replied and then given his friend a well-deserved punch in the balls as Niall had replied very enthusiastically, “It’s 7:13, Lou, not 7!”

So, there Louis was, still one hour to go until his good-for-nothing golf-adoring friend would arrive at Gare du Nord in flipping  _ Paris _ . He fucking hated Paris. The irony of it all was that he would end up being the one to “translate the language of love” to the annoying Irishman. What a joy!

At the thought of being in a place he could not stand at such a time of the year, Louis heaved a frustrated sigh, dropping his head in his hands. As he did so, he heard a very different sigh coming from the person sitting next to him, facing the arrivals board in the middle of Gare du Nord. It was a happy sigh, was the thing, and Louis could not fathom the mere idea that someone else could be in such a mood when he was, to say the least, extremely grumpy from lack of sleep.

As Louis raised his head, his breath seemed to catch in his throat as he caught sight of the most beautiful pair of green eyes he had ever seen. Not that he had seen many of those. Still a dick though, being so obviously happy when Louis needed ten more hours of sleep and at least three cups of Yorkshire Tea to function as a normal human should. How very dare he showcase his unadulterated glee in front of Louis, who was very clearly mourning the comfort of his bed?! But such pretty eyes. And this mouth, God, did Louis want to kiss it. Perhaps he really  _ was  _ sleep-deprived.

When he was done being a creep and finally started paying attention to the man as a whole person, a sense of familiarity came over him. Where had Louis seen that face before? Surely, he would remember if such a thing had happened; those features were unforgettable. But just as the thought crossed his mind, Louis heard the deepest, richest and, to be quite honest, most alluring voice he had ever heard tell him, “Well, well, well, we meet again, I see”. This voice, paired with the breathtaking smile and set of dimples, had Louis lost for words, something that was most certainly out of character for him.

***

“I can finally introduce myself properly after fifteen years. Harry Styles,” the green-eyed man said, extending his rather large hand. His neighbour took it and held it, as if by reflex, in his much smaller hand. The smile did not leave Harry Styles’ face as the other man stared at him without saying a word, his eyes apparently transfixed.

When, finally, he had seemed to regain his composure, it was with a pretty, high-pitched voice, reminding Harry of the ringing of bells, that the man spoke. “Oh, erm, sorry, your… your hand,” he stammered while blushing beautifully. “I’m Louis,” he said before a pronounced pause, as if he had been caught off guard by his own name. Harry smirked. “Tomlinson,” he then finished.

Despite the scowl now showing on his face, probably a result of Harry’s smug look – he was very much aware of the effect he had on the blue-eyed man sat next to him – Louis was still the prettiest sight that has ever graced the earth to Harry. And despite what his friend Liam may say, Harry was decidedly not overly poetic when it comes to pretty, curvy boys. This boy – man, he was definitely a man – was special. He knew it. Had known it from the start.

“Did I offend you, somehow?” Harry asked gently. Louis faced him again, having quickly glanced at the arrivals board. He was biting his lower lip and something stirred deep in Harry’s gut. That should be considered foul play.

“Nah, it’s just me mate. He booked me a train that left London at fucking seven in the morning and then he went and had his changed so he would be here at ten thirty. Just need to punch him in the face and get a proper cuppa, though I don’t know where I’ll find one in Paris.” He had sneered the name as if disgusted by it then went on to add that it might help if Harry did not look so energetic and excited to be in crappy Paris.

His scowl only seemed to deepen as Harry’s smile grew at his words. “You still hate Paris, another thing that hasn’t changed about you,” he said, still smiling. Louis looked at him then, intrigued. “What’s the other?” he asked, ever so curious.

Harry did not reply right away. He stared at the man next to him; at his face, his bright blue eyes, his thin pink lips; the contrast of his soft lashes against his sharp cheekbones. If Harry had not touched his hand, he would think that meeting Louis had been a wild, alluring dream. Surely such a magnificent, sweet creature could not be real. He was though. Harry had seen him pace grumpily back and forth in front of the arrivals board before sitting down. What a sight he was. All curves and softness. Despite his loosely fitted tracksuit, Harry could still see the delicious roundness of Louis’ arse. He was soft like peaches, yet his expression was sharp and astute, despite not having noticed Harry’s stares. His cheekbones could definitely cut paper, Harry had decided.

The thing is, Harry wanted to lie; he desperately wanted to tell the smaller man that he was still a grumpy arse brat just to see the expression on his face. He loved seeing it change. Instead Harry decided to be truthful. “You’re still as breathtakingly gorgeous as fifteen years ago, Louis,” he said with confidence and watched as the prettiest flush spread across Louis’ face, as he knew it would. He did not regret telling him that. “And you still talk the same shit,” was his murmured reply, as Louis tried to hide his embarrassment. Harry just smiled again.

From then on, they started talking, updating each other on their respective lives. Harry congratulated Louis for getting his Bachelors in French studies, despite hating Paris, and had gotten an elbow in his stomach as a show of thanks. Louis had then gone on to ask Harry if his dream of composing music and directing his own opera had come true. Louis had seemed truly impressed when Harry had confirmed this and had showered him in praise, in which Harry glowed.

Their talk was cut short, though, when a brown-eyed man sat down next to Harry, handing him a paper coffee cup. “Here mate. Sorry, got lost for a bit. Ready to go? I’m knackered, reckon I could sleep for...” He suddenly stopped as he finally noticed Louis’ presence beside his friend. “Hi there,” he said, a friendly smile on his face. He looked back at Harry and said, “Sorry to cut this short, really but I also came to tell you our Uber’s here.”

Harry sighed deeply and told Louis playfully “That’s Liam for you, always have to be on schedule.” He smiled fondly as he heard the blue-eyed man’s giggle before getting up and walking backwards, dragging his suitcase in his left hand.

“Well, then, I guess I’ll see you later,” Harry said, waving goodbye before turning around. Tripping on his own feet would not do him any good. Before he had the time to take to steps, though, he heard Louis call out to him. “Wait! You didn’t give me your number! How will we see each other again?”

Harry turned back around, winked in the cheesiest manner he knew and walked away, throwing over his shoulder that “Third time’s the charm, love”. If only he could see Louis’ face then.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please forgive the inconsistency of my chapters' length.

** _Later that day_ **

  
  


When Niall had finally arrived and Louis had snapped out of the state of shock that Harry’s parting words had left him in, he was received with a smack on the head and another punch in the balls. Louis surmised that he deserved it, though, by his own admission.

“ _ Why _ ?!” he had demanded, pain evident in his voice. Louis felt no compassion for his friend though, he had made him get up so early, and what for? “You got here at ten thirty  _ London _ time, you fucking twat! I waited three hours for you!” Louis had provided by way of explanation. Niall  _ really _ did look sorry this time as he sheepishly started running his fingers through his hair, a clear sign that he felt embarrassed.

He could be forgiven, Louis decided, “Only if you spill the beans, though. I deserve to know what I am in crappy Paris for,” he added once the Irishman had relaxed his stance. “Tough luck! Can’t tell you that, mate,” Niall replied, and he even had the audacity to stick his tongue out at Louis. The sheer nerve of him. Louis could not trust his friend. That was confirmed when he told Niall so and got laughed at by said friend.

“Come on, Lou. Let’s get to our hotel,” he said out of the blue. And that was that. Heaving his suitcase and grimacing at the thought of venturing through the Parisian streets to find the hotel, they left.

***

The image of green eyes had followed Louis all the way to their hotel. He could only recall telling the taxi driver, “Montmartre, s’il vous plaît,” after two minutes of listening to his friend’s gibberish. The drive seemed to fly by as he thought of those bright eyes and full lips. Niall, happy to take his revenge, had to elbow him to get him out of his trance.

They then made their way to the hotel reception where Louis had to, once again, take the reins. Thankfully for him, Niall had booked two separate rooms. Louis would have left right then and there if that had not been the case. He did  _ not _ want to share a bed with Niall. They thanked the young woman at the front desk and grabbed their suitcases.

As they made their way up to their rooms, dragging their luggage up the stairs because “Of fucking course you would book a room in a hotel that doesn’t have a lift, Neil,” Louis was contemplating murder. He would definitely figure something out to make his friend pay for the different ways he had been tortured since waking up this morning. By this stage, his back was aching from dragging his suitcase around Paris and his eyelids for beginning to fall shut. He could hardly wait until he collapsed into his hotel bed.

Niall’s room happened to be the one right next to his. At least Louis wouldn’t have to change floors to find him. As his friend proceeded to annoy Louis further by telling him that he was going to take a nap to prepare for their nightly activities, Louis made up his mind. The Irish pest was going to pay.

His crimes? Unneeded subtraction of two hours of Louis’ sleep; dragging him on an unwanted trip to Paris; being unapologetic about it, though this one would be deemed unfair by anyone else, it being Niall’s most natural character, but Louis did not care at this point. The worst crime of all, though, was that he would not divulge the very secret scheme behind all the aforementioned. The question that had been absorbing Louis’ attention had been why Niall had dragged him to Paris in the first place.

After leaving his suitcase in his room, Louis went down the stairs and up to the reception again.

“Excusez-moi,” he addressed the woman politely. “Bonjour,” he added once had her attention, “mon ami a une réunion tôt demain matin et il est épuisé par son voyage. Est-ce que ce serait possible de le réveiller à six heures? Il est dans la chambre 15,” he informed her innocently. Niall deserved this, an eye for an eye, he thought. Feeling extremely chuffed, Louis then went up to his room, deeming that a nap was in fact Niall’s very first decent idea.

Later that night, Louis found out that the activity Niall had planned for them consisted of drunkenly singing all the trashy songs of the last three decades. He was actually having fun, sat at the bar, a Belgium beer in hand, watching his friend dancing horribly to Britney Spears’ ‘Oops I did it again’ in front of what seemed to be the regular crowd of this karaoke bar. For a brief moment, Louis almost didn’t hate Paris. With Harry staying in the city and Niall’s admittedly impressive singing (along with his crooning Britney impression), he was able to soak in the city and enjoy himself.

***

“Yes, Mum, I saw him,” Harry informed his mother through the phone, “he looked lovely, just as he did the last time I saw him.” In the background, he could hear Liam snort at that. He grinned as he blindly threw his pillow at him and was rewarded with a groan. “Yes, Liam saw him as well. He was so cute with that sweater.” Another snort from his friend who lifted his hands in surrender as he received a glare. “The grumpiest I’ve seen him yet, but so sweet. How are things on your side?” 

He laid down on his bed as he listened to his mother’s reassuring words. Harry smiled when he heard the familiar chatter on the other side of the line as his family talked all over each other, each trying to get his attention. This was always the case when he went away for work and called home. It warmed his heart and made him feel every bit the sentimental man he was, missing the comforts of home and family. “Do you want to talk to Li? I’m sure he has some interesting things to share as well. I’m going to take a shower. Love you!” They knew it was meant for each and every member of his family. He then handed the phone to his friend who was on the verge of sleep and went to take a shower.

Before he had closed the door to their bathroom, he heard Liam say, “Harry’s so smitten it’s disgusting. Yeah, I know, Anne, it’s incredible after all this time”. And it was, he had to agree as he thought back to those deep blue eyes and smiled despite himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Excusez-moi. Bonjour, mon ami a une réunion tôt demain matin et il est épuisé par son voyage. Est-ce que ce serait possible de le réveiller à six heures? Il est dans la chambre 15.”
> 
> → “Excuse me. Hi, my friend has a meeting early tomorrow morning and he is exhausted because of his trip. Would you be so kind as to wake him at 6? He is in room 15.”


	3. Chapter 3

** _Sunday, 9 August 2026_ **

Most of their morning was spent sleeping. Scratch that, Louis enjoyed the perks of sleeping in while Mister Niall Horan got woken up at the ungodly hour of 6 AM by the lovely staff of the Hôtel Viator. Thankfully, after spending fifteen minutes seething at his friend’s unbelievable childish antics, the Irishman reasoned that if a successful prank could get Louis off his back and relaxed for some time at least, he was willing to let it slide. He then proceeded to fall asleep once again. That was, after all, one of his famous skills. At least that was what their group of friends called his ability to fall asleep anywhere at any time of the day.

That is how Niall and Louis found themselves waking up way past breakfast time. They decided to spend their day outside, beginning with brunch at a café called ‘Le Pain quotidien’.  _ The daily bread _ , _ huh _ , Louis thought. “Looks like the French also like their puns,” he muttered under his breath. ‘Le Pain quotidien’ could be found in the 7 th arrondissement. It would have been quite far from their hotel had they gone on foot so Niall decided they would take a taxi once again.

Obviously, as soon as they had gotten in the taxi that they had to wait 10 minutes for, Niall started complaining. “I’m so freaking hungry, Tommo!” he said, to which Louis replied while shaking his head, “Can’t believe you still call me that.” After sharing a meaningful look with his friend, he added, “And that’s your own fault, Neil. Why would you want to go that far from the hotel, huh? There was a bloody cafe right there on the other side of the street but no! Mister Horan needs to cross the whole of Paris to have his oh-so-important brunch.”

Niall looked slightly miffed at this, crossing his arms and pouting. “First of all,” he started, “you’ll always be Tommo to me. Second of all, I am still hungry!” Louis looked at his friend, his expression torn between disbelief and amusement. “That didn’t even make any sense,” he said, deadpan. “Shut up!!” The two grown men – though that was sometimes hard to believe – kept teasing each other for the whole duration of their ride, much to their driver’s chagrin, Louis was sure.

“Nous sommes arrivés,” the taxi driver suddenly intervened. Louis looked around and realised that they had indeed stopped. Paying a 27 Euros fare for a less than 30 minutes ride made Louis question why Niall had not booked them a rental car for the week they were spending in Paris. When he shared the thought with his friend, he was met with a snort and a look of disbelief. “Please, Lou! You already complain whenever you have to drive your own car. And now you tell me you want to drive on the wrong side of the road too?”

Niall wasn’t wrong, but of course Louis would never admit that out loud. Instead he just muttered, “You’d better hope this brunch is worth the ride.”

“Oh, it is! And it’s already paid for too,” Niall exclaimed enthusiastically as he entered the café. He then handed the waiter who had greeted them in a piece of paper as Louis followed silently behind.  _ So, this was also a part of the plan _ , he mused.

***

“Harry, mate, I’ve got bad news.”

As he heard his friend’s serious tone, Harry Styles put down his pen and turned away from his desk. “What is it Li? You’re kind of freaking me out,” he added after taking a good look at Liam. There was an anxious glint to Liam’s eyes and he kept shifting on the spot, watching Harry warily. 

“Well, it’s about the piano. Lucas can’t make it,” he announced, wincing at his own words. As if to justify himself, he then quickly added, “His wife could go into labour any minute and he doesn’t want to risk missing the birth.” Harry heaved a sigh of relief.

Having one of his best friends as a manager was great most of the time but Liam being a perfectionist could sometimes lead him to be overly anxious about the smallest, most insignificant details. “If that’s all, you can call Lizzy; she’s in Berlin right now. She was playing with the philharmonic but I think today’s the last performance. She’s always liked this song.” Liam seemed to relax after hearing those words. 

“You had me thinking something was wrong with the venue, Li!” Harry playfully whined, shaking his head at Liam’s histrionic tendencies. Liam smiled, beatific and relieved, and Harry felt rather grateful to have a friend like him, someone who always had his dearest interests at heart. “I would have been pissed if that had gone out the window, though,” he added gravely. “I don’t have any backup plans.”

Liam smiled fondly and patted his friend’s back reassuringly. Harry was nervous, he noticed. Despite being prepared, despite having already lived through this situation, Harry Styles was still nervous. “It’ll be alright, man. That’s taken care of, you know it. Besides, you’ve got all the motivation you need, right?” he added with a wink. “You’re gonna make this work.”

Harry smiled as he thought back to blue eyes and soft brown hair. Denying Liam’s very obvious allusion to Louis was pointless, really. Harry was not the kind of man to be shy about his feelings. Liam knew that. Everybody knew that. Harry went back to work. Arranging his song into a string quartet for piano, cello, viola and violin. It was something he had thought about for a long time along with regard to this particular venue and, though he was nervous, his insides were alight with excitement, pushing him to strive for the best with his musical arrangement.

And so, the two friends worked as usual. Harry was humming melodies, tapping rhythms with his pen, creating a theme for the piano. He would sometimes pick up his own violin, sounding out his thoughts then scratching some phrases out.

Liam, on the other hand, was making phone call after phone call, booking rooms and plane tickets, planning rehearsals. It felt utterly natural for them both to resume their usual jobs, in each other’s company but immersed in completely different tasks aimed at fulfilling the same goal.

Harry was organised, that had always been true. But he was not foolish enough to think that he could have gotten to where he was without the support of his friend. He was very thankful and made sure to show how much every single day. “I love you, mate,” he simply told him. Because it was true.

“Love you too, man,” Liam replied. His smile could be heard in his voice. “Now back to work.”  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Nous sommes arrivés” → “We’ve arrived” / “We’re here”
> 
> Also, I would like to apologise for my lack of knowledge when it comes to music. I only know how to sing and I haven't had a proper education. I just love to listen to it.


	4. Chapter 4

** _Sunday, 9 August 2026_ **

  


It was after they had taken their admittedly delicious brunch that Louis’ mood threatened to go sour. “I can’t fucking believe you, mate!” he exclaimed, voicing his irritation. 

The thing was that Louis hated Paris, despised that the place had dubbed itself the ‘City of Love’. Louis knew, though, that the ‘City of Love’ was some place in Italy, that Paris truly was the ‘City of Lights’. The same damned lights that caused his aggravation.

“So…” Niall had started, knowing too well that this was for whatever reason a sensitive subject to address around Louis. “We’re going to see the Eiffel Tower tonight. Come on, man! The lights are gonna be sick,” he added as he saw Louis’ expression morph from that of satisfaction to a look of utter disgust.

So, there Louis was, irritated, disgusted and hating the city more and more by the second. “Do you even know what that is, Neil?” He sneered the name. Niall looked as clueless as he probably was, for he could not fathom what about the Eiffel Tower would make his friend this angry.

“You see, Mister Eiffel and his company built this gigantic iron thing for the Universal Exposition of 1889, which was held in Paris.” Louis started ranting. Had he been calmer, he would have found a frightfully striking similarity between his position and that of his former History teacher in secondary school, which was a horrible realisation considering how mind-numbing his history teacher’s lectures had been.

Niall was all ears, though, Louis would have kept going either way. “Do you know what they exhibited there, hm?” Without leaving him time to reply, Louis went on. “People, Niall! Bloody people! They had this ‘Negro village’ with hundreds of people as the main attraction.  _ I _ am not going!” he finished petulantly, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Niall just stared, his eyes bulging out of their sockets in shock. He then sighed, shook his head in disbelief and laughed his boisterous laugh. “Oh my God! That was…” He cut himself with another burst of laughter, tears falling from his eyes as his whole body shook. Louis just stared.

Once he had regained control over himself, Niall smiled his – still – boyish smile and offered as an answer to his friend’s puzzled face. “Your little outburst was also planned, it seems, so first we’re going to the Musée Rodin. Apparently, there’s an exhibit that could interest you, it’s about well Rodin and Mapple...” Niall could not finish his sentence as he was interrupted by Louis’ gasp.

“Robert Mapplethorpe?” Louis asked, renewed excitement evident in his tone. Niall nodded and Louis’ eyes filled with tenderness and adoration. “It’s… Niall, it’s the one I wanted to see back in 2014 when I last went to Paris. That’s…” Louis seemed dazed and Niall looked on fondly at his friend.

So they went peacefully. Niall had Louis take pictures of him next to ‘The Thinker’, striking the same pose. He watched and listened carefully as Louis went on about the beautiful opposition and dialogue between the French sculptor and American photographer’s aesthetics. Niall himself was astounded at the way the two artists had been able to showcase the eroticism of the human shape. Louis was very fond of the black and white theme.

“He was right,” Niall murmured to himself, as they left the museum in the early afternoon. Louis gave him a puzzled look that he brushed off by shaking his head. He couldn’t reveal anything yet and Louis had to remain none the wiser that everything had been planned in advance.  


“Let’s be proper tourists now!” Niall exclaimed. A few minutes later, Louis found out that being proper tourists in Paris meant taking a Bateau-Mouche on the Seine and listening to a tour guide. Louis also found out that being on a boat with an enthusiastic Niall was  _ not _ the best idea. His Irish friend managed to drop his phone into a puddle that had formed on the deck of the boat while taking a selfie because “You know the quality is going to be better on yours, Lou!”  


“How am I gonna call home, now?” Louis had complained once they were off the boat – he had given Niall the silent treatment for fear of causing a ruckus amongst the other passengers and accidentally throwing Niall into the Seine in the course of an undoubtable argument. “You could still use mine,” Niall muttered, looking extremely contrite.  


The two men stopped by a corner shop to buy some rice before going to the Eiffel Tower. Niall, once again, had Louis take pictures of him striking different poses around the iron giant – “Come on, Lou, you know that’s not her name!” “Oh, it’s a  _ her _ , now, is it?” – as well as dragging a reluctant Louis into one when a couple of young girls asked them if they wanted a picture taken together.

  


Back in their hotel room, Louis took hold of Niall’s phone while the latter dutifully put Louis’ own in the bag of rice before going to his room to take a shower.

“Hi Dan! How’s everyone doing over there?”


	5. Chapter 5

** _Monday, 10 August 2026_ **

These arms felt so comfortable; it really was wonderful being wrapped up in them. It felt like home. The hair that tickled his jaw as tender kisses were peppered down his neck was a feeling Louis couldn’t get enough of. 

Obviously, that was the moment Niall chose to actually bang on his door. The Irish fucker, Louis thought. Of course, he did not get up right away to open the door so his future former friend – if he kept annoying Louis like that – decided to give it another go. Niall successfully avoided being demoted to the rank of mere acquaintance when he, fortunately, managed to not punch Louis in the face on his third try because Louis had opened the door.

Louis’ mood did not perk up when he came face to face with a giddy and very much awake Niall.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, mate? It’s only 9 in the bloody morning!” he grumbled.

Niall was not intimidated by his friend’s apparent bad mood, having had a lot of experience with it in the past. He smiled cheerily and said, “Here’s your tea: Yorkshire, no sugar and a splash of milk. I made it following the instructions so you better be grateful, Lou!”

Louis was left dumbfounded by the outpour of energy coming from the usually equally irritating man standing before him. “Wha…” he began but Niall caught him up instantly, shoving a paper bag to his chest.

“Here’s your brekkie! I got you this thing called  _ chassun o pum _ , which, by the way, is fucking delicious. And, of course, a croissant” Niall explained, beaming. He let himself in and sat on the bed. Then after taking a look at his watch, “You’d better hurry, Tommo! Our agenda is packed today!”

Louis decided to ignore his friend because why would Niall Horan, master of the art of taking everything as it comes, plan their trip like this? It was utterly baffling and just as suspicious. He would have to keep an eye out for any further unusual behaviour. Louis opted to sit at the table by the window to eat his breakfast peacefully. As Louis opened the bag, he cracked his first smile of the day. “It’s an apple turnover, Ni!” he informed his friend before taking a bite of the  _ chausson aux pommes _ . Louis had to admit that it was delicious, though he would never tell Niall as much.

***

“Lizzy will be here by 3 pm so I booked the rehearsal studio for half three. Rico and Anya will meet us around noon. As you know, they hold auditions for their winter production in the mornings. We have to get Ed from the airport at half ten so you have about twenty minutes to get ready.”

Harry looked contemplatively at his friend as he listed their program for the day. He shuddered as he thought of the time when Liam acted like this - just as energetic to the point of overbearing - full time. He was very thankful for Liam loosening up and letting down his walls with time. The divide between his work persona – cold, strict, inflexible – and his now openly warm and comforting character was immense. He was also very grateful for his friend’s professional conscience, especially for this event that was so dear to his heart.

“Let’s get this show on the road!”

***

“What the fuck, Niall?! What is this?” Louis demanded. He was honestly and completely flabbergasted. “You taking me on a fancy date, mate? You know you’ll get in trouble for that,” he added cheekily. Niall threw his head back and laughed his hearty laugh. “Hell no, man! You need a new suit though, otherwise you won’t look the part.” Seeing the puzzlement on his friend’s face, he continued, teasing “I’m sorry to say, Tommo, but the suits you’ve got are just not gonna cut it.”

“Why do I need a suit though? Are you getting one too?” Louis continued as he was asked by the tailor to raise his arms.

Niall just shook his head. “Nah, got mine already. Just need to get it to the dry-cleaner’s.” He smiled at Louis’ bemused expression. “I reckon it got crumpled on the way here with all this travelling,” he added contemplatively.

Louis started muttering something about getting to the bottom of things when the tailor sent them on their way. “The measurements were a bit off, so Mister…” He stopped, getting cut up by Niall’s obviously fake cough, which was followed by a shake of the head and alarmingly large eyes.  _ Way to be subtle, Niall _ , Louis thought with a roll of his own eyes. He couldn’t help wondering why his friend was acting so suspicious these past few days. Who would even be paying for his suit; he certainly wouldn’t be, and Niall was notorious for evasion when it came to matters such as this. He would have to keep his eyes peeled and his wits about him.

“Right,” the tailor began again, “it was the right choice to come today, Mister Horan. You can pick up the suit anytime between tomorrow and Thursday. Only in the morning, though,” he added as an afterthought.  _ Anytime _ , right Louis rolled his eyes once again, which earned him a slap on the back of the head from his friend.

“Ouch! What’ d’you do that for?” Louis whined. “You weren’t being very nice. You didn’t even say goodbye to the guy, Lou.” Niall told him, as if berating a child. Only then did Louis realise that they had, in fact, left the shop. He had just blindly followed after his friend, too lost in thought to consider his surroundings. What was Niall scheming?

Before he could ask, Niall stopped him and, looking surprisingly somber, announced that their next stop would be the Mk2 library so that Louis could work for a bit. “That’s your only allotted time, Tommo. We’re going to the theatre after so you only get 3 hours.” Louis almost wanted to punch him in the balls again for being so dramatic about it but he was also very grateful so he let it slide.

He had gotten a few suggestions from his manager for the next books he would translate and he hadn’t made up his mind yet. He also had to do his research to prepare for a conference where he would act as the English interpreter. It would be held at Arcada, a university in Helsinki, Finland during the third week of September. It was about the role of modern technology in the future of our planet. A French speaker was going to be there and so was Louis.

The rest of the day passed in the blink of an eye. Louis worked as Niall perused – or at least he pretended to – French comic strips. Afterwards they went to the theatre to see a performance of Ionesco’s ‘Le Rhinocéros’ where they kept being shushed because low had to translate the whole play to a non-French speaking Niall.

They went to bed, exhausted and Louis didn’t even think to check if his phone had been salvaged before falling into a deep sleep.

***

“Man, I’m spent!” the alto player exclaimed. “This is great, though, Haz, thanks for including me man. It’s gonna be a blast!”

“Thank  _ you _ , Ed. You would have been there either way but I really wanted to make this special,” Harry told his friend truthfully. He then turned to the others, “And thanks to all of you; especially you, Lizzy. Thank you for coming on such short notice.”

The pianist, a petite woman with dark short hair and hazel eyes that shone with determination, just smacked him lightly on the arm. “You’re grateful, we’re grateful, blah, blah, blah. Can we go now? I’m sure we still have to rehearse tomorrow and I seriously need to catch some sleep.”

The four musicians seemed to all agree on that and Harry himself, despite feeling exhilaration for finally realising this project, also felt the same exhaustion deep in his muscles; it had been an admittedly draining day and he was looking forward to the comfort and warmth of his bed. “Alright, I’ll see you guys tomorrow, here at two. Just don’t forget that I won’t be directing so take notes of the pointers I’m giving you and really just feel each other. Not in a gross way, of course. Just feel the magic of this music - it’s really important.”

“And on that note,” Liam interjected, clapping his hands together, “Goodnight to you all.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is a very descriptive chapter

** _Tuesday, 11 August 2026 - 7:30 Paris Time_ **

“Onwards, Nialler!” Louis exclaimed. Had they been a bit younger, Louis would have been perched on Niall’s shoulders. Louis was 34 now and his friend 33 – soon-to-be – with a bad back so Louis decided to be merciful.

Louis’ mood had drastically changed from his usual – for this trip at least – sour frame of mind. That was because Niall had for once disclosed his plans for the day. They were going to the Louvre where Louis could admire his beloved sculptures. Then they would walk a few of Paris’ bridges, starting of course with the Pont des Arts, since it would allow them to cross from the Louvre to the Saint-Germain-Des-Près district.

Louis felt like a child again and acted like it too. His best friend hadn’t changed one bit and that always brought a smile to Niall’s face. They were the same in that aspect. 

“Let’s go, Tommo! We don’t wanna get stuck in the queues too long, now, do we?” And so Louis followed.

***

“I told the reception to watch for the delivery of the candles. The doves are set to arrive on Thursday morning,” Liam said as they made their way towards the pyramids.

“Thanks man,” Harry answered with a grateful smile. “I had to remind the florist about the arrangement we had agreed upon. She’d forgotten about the orange blossoms,” he emphasised, annoyance clear in his voice. “She was so stubborn about it too, kept saying it was tulips. I had to urge her to check her emails three times before she finally did. I swear to God, Li, I am not a violent person but she was so bloody infuriating!”

Liam, the good man he was, just laughed. “Come on, it’s all gonna be worth it and you know it.”

***

“You can go if you want, Ni. You’ll find me here when it’s time to go,” Louis told his friend distractedly. He was admiring a statue of a ‘Crouching Aphrodite’. She was, after all, the Goddess of Love and Beauty for the ancient Greeks. 

Louis could faintly hear Niall leaving but he was too absorbed by the beauty that surrounded him. He loved sculptures in general, but at the Louvre, he was mostly fascinated by the wonders that were offered to the public eye at the department of Greek, Etruscan and Roman Antiquities.

Before him was Aphrodite, crouching, ready for her ritual bath. It was in a remarkable state of preservation for a piece dating as far back as the 2nd century BC. Some parts of Her were missing, yet Louis could still sense the beauty of her hands. There was just a hint of curves, her womanly figure more subtle than the original models from the 5th century BC, Louis read on the sign. It may be a copy – Louis found the term “interpretation” better fitting – but it was nevertheless fascinating and Louis was utterly transfixed. The Goddess could also be found untying her sandal in a bronze statue; being an image of modesty in bronze. 

Despite the sheer number of visitors walking around the museum, Louis felt like he was alone, so much so that he nearly bumped into a pregnant woman once. He always lost all sense of time whenever he went to a museum, willingly that is – time happened to drag on whenever he agreed to attend an exhibition of abstract art; how long could one stare at red dots on a white canvas and wonder what it was, honestly. As he went around the rooms dedicated to the Antiquities, Louis vowed to pay more attention to his surroundings. Even on a weekday, there was quite the crowd. 

Louis made his way through the gallery, taking in the spectacular variety of amphoras through the ages. He was amazed by the elegance and fierceness held by Athena, even in such a small piece as her head wearing a helmet. The body that had been made for it had apparently been lost in time. 

Louis loved the Gods and Goddesses as well as the great figures of the ancient times such as Alexander the Great. He also liked to appreciate the common, banal objects that linked the past and the present. Louis was admiring a gorgeous mosaic glass bowl estimated to date back to the second half of the first century BC when it happened. The hairs on the nape of his neck rose as he felt a breath land on his ear.

“Told you, third time’s the charm.” 

The tone was smug, cheeky at best. 

Louis turned around, eyes wide with astonishment. There stood Harry Styles, devastatingly beautiful; eyes, greener and softer than ever; lips more inviting than Louis could remember. The dimples that appeared whenever the man smiled were still mesmerising to Louis. He always had the urge to poke at them and this time, Louis did not resist.

Harry had to fake cough at least three times to get Louis out of his trance. 

“Wha’?” Louis asked when he was met with a – still – very smug Harry and a raised eyebrow. “I’d missed them. They really are a wonder of human architecture,” he added defensively. 

Harry had just opened his mouth but promptly closed it again, smile still present on his face – fond this time – as he listened to Louis.

“By that I mean the structure of the human body. It’s truly amazing,” Louis pondered, “what we see and what we perceive as beautiful. What we see and still don’t know. How what we see, even if it is something as common yet singular as a dimple, can make us feel so many different emotions. All of us can experience that relationship to what we see in our own way. It can bring utter sadness upon one of us and at the same time remind another of a dear memory. It can make us feel joy to an unprecedented level, can brighten the saddest day. The most amazing thing is that we all seem to agree on some quality to define Beauty in its most concentrated essence. That’s amazing, and that’s art.”

Louis was completely lost in thought, almost as if he had forgotten Harry’s presence. And maybe he had. Or maybe he just felt that comfortable around the man, that he could share his thoughts without holding back and anticipating a reaction or response.

Once he had revelled in Louis’ reflection on Beauty, Harry finally spoke again. “You do know about Fibonacci’s sequence, right?”

Louis looked at him, offended. “I swear to God, Harry, I’m about to smack you in the face,” he threatened. He was met with Harry’s default expression – or so it seemed to Louis – which was an amused smile. 

“Of course I bloody know about that,” he continued after a while, giving up the pretence of being outraged. “I was not talking about science though. I was just saying how quaint it is that whoever is looking at this  _ Artemis with a Doe _ ,” he said, pointing at said statue, “will see it as a beautiful work of art. And that will be the case in ten years like I believe it was the case around the fifth or fourth century BC when it was created.”

“Is that why you love sculptures so much, Lou?” Harry asked, the nickname already sounding familiar in his mouth.

“Yeah. It really is immortal.” He considered this, frowned and shook his head. “Nah, that’s not right. It is eternal and universal.” Louis finished with a nod, which Harry seemed to find entirely too adorable. “I am not going to touch the subject of abstract art, though,” Louis added after a while.

“Excuse you!” Harry exclaimed, clearly upset by the last comment. “I happen to think Kandisky does some remarkable work.”

They had moved to a bench by this point, which is why Louis allowed himself to gently kick Harry’s shin. He then scoffed “Well I can’t bloody understand anything abstract. I am talking about universal Beauty, here, Harold!” 

“And who’s to say abstract art isn’t beautiful?” Harry was now crossing his arms. The smile hadn’t left his face though. He really enjoyed this type of interaction and sometimes – mostly at work – people did not dare talk back to him. Louis was always a refreshing presence, he found.

“It sure as hell ain’t universal,” Louis assured, followed by a very smug suggestion, advising Harry not to start a fight that he knew he couldn’t finish. “It’s not universal if you have to interpret it, dimwit” he very helpfully explained.

“Thanks, love, I hadn’t realised that,” Harry said sarcastically.

They fell into a comfortable silence for a while. Excitement shone in their eyes, catching on the gentle glow of the afternoon sun. Louis realised only then that they had both sat on one side of the bench so they could see each other’s face while talking. Harry must have guided him during his spiel on the human architecture. He snorted as he remembered his ridiculous rants, as stubborn as ever that he was right.

Their thighs were barely touching but Louis’ skin was alight with that contact, constantly reminded of how Harry felt like such a comforting presence.. The air around them was light and Louis felt giddy with it. Still he felt grounded around Harry.

“You know,” Louis started, then when he was sure Harry’s attention was on him he added softly, “It is not just about physical beauty. It’s the same with music. Not everybody will listen to a rap song or an opera and enjoy it but when it is beautiful, the words, the melody, everyone will see it. Take your  _ Carmen _ , for example. It’s not going to be everybody’s cup of tea, but the whole world agrees that Bizet produced a great piece of work.”

Harry looked at him in awe. “You remember?”

“Of course I remember!” Louis said, surprised that Harry had thought so little of him. “That was the second time, right? December 2012.”

“Right,” Harry answered. He really was fond of Louis.


	7. Chapter 7

** _Tuesday, 11 August 2026 - The Louvre_ **

Louis vividly remembered their encounter at Gare du Nord. The boy he had seen there once two years before had – lawfully – become a man, and a gorgeous one at that.

  
  
  


** _Saturday, 22 December 2012 - Paris, Gare du Nord - 16:38 Paris Time_ **

_ Louis had to wait another fifteen minutes before his platform would be announced. Thirty five minutes until his train finally left for London. He had come to Paris with a group of students from his university with people around him excited beyond belief while he felt the resolute opposite. _

_ Every year since he had started going to Manchester University, the ‘French lovers’, as the student organisation he had joined was called, went to a French speaking country to soak in the culture and the language. Louis, of course, despised the name but legally changing it was a hassle so he never bothered, even when he became president. _

_ As they went about choosing their destination, Louis had stupidly thought that being democratic about it was the way to go and that is how he found himself in the city he hated most in the world.  _

_ Thankfully, though his fellow students would disagree, his trip had come to an end.Because this year, the majority of the members had wanted to spend Christmas in Paris, Louis had planned a different departure day for himself. Family was very important to him and he was not about to spend this special moment without his. _

_ As Louis stood in front of the departure board, somebody suddenly bumped into his shoulder, dropping his belongings on the ground if he had to judge by the sound. He turned to check if everything was alright but all he could see was a beautiful head of curls. _

_ “Oops. Sorry mate, didn’t see you there. I mean, I didn’t see much of anything, wasn’t looking where I was going,” the man – it was a man – started rambling. “Proper dick move if you ask me. Sorry again.”  _

_ The man finally looked up and Louis saw the recognition in his eyes as he too was overcome with the feeling of familiarity. He had seen those eyes before; they were not easy to forget. This face too, though it had been fuller at the time. As the man stood up – he had been on his knees all along – Louis noticed that that was not the only thing that had changed. He had grown into a beautiful man with longer, more tamed hair and the longest legs. It had only been two years! What had happened?! _

_ “Harold? Is that you?” Louis asked tentatively, unable to tear his eyes away. He was met with the most breathtaking smile he had ever seen. And dimples. His 20 year-old heart – for two days, still! – could not handle all that. _

_ “You know it’s Harry, Louis.” Harry smiled anyway, not really bothered by the fact that Louis had called him the wrong name. What an uncanny coincidence. To meet the boy that had made such an impact on his life again, at the same place. At that time Harry already believed it could be fate.  _

_ “How old are you?”  _

_ “Wow, Louis! That’s quite forward, don’t you think? We haven’t seen each other in almost two years and that’s the first thing you ask me?” _

_ “Gee! Dramatic much, aren’t we,” Louis said playfully. The truth was that they did not know much about each other.  _

_ On their first encounter, Louis could not stand Harry. The boy was so happy to be in Paris, he seemed not to care what time of the day it was. Harry exuded joy and Louis was not in the best of moods. Even the prospect of going to Brussels could not lift his spirit when he had to wake up before seven to take the train because the president of the student association – at the time it was a bloke called Darwin, what were his parents thinking?! – had thought it a good idea to enjoy every single minute they could. _

_ So Louis had hated Harry on first sight, despite finding him cute as a button. He was not into younger boys anyway. But seeing Harry now begged the question. How old was he? _

_ “You’ve changed a lot, that’s all, mate. Look, I’ll start. I am soon to be twenty one,” Louis provided with a grin. _

_ “How soon exactly are we talking?”  _

_ “In two days. Now spill. How old are you, Harold? And do not deflect! I don’t have much time,” Louis playfully warned, and just like his mother, he realised that he had been waving his hand as he was talking. _

_ “A Christmas Eve baby!” Harry exclaimed, a big smile adorning his face. He then managed to snort as Louis grumbled that he was hardly a baby anymore and urged him to give him an answer. “Well, for your information I am a soon to be nineteen years old,” he said, grinning with pride. _

_ “So basically you’re a teenager,” Louis deadpanned. _

_ “Hey!” Harry dragged on the syllable, which should have annoyed Louis but he was left endeared by this man child instead. “So why are you here, anyway? Last time we saw each other you told me two things: Louis and I fucking hate this city. Why did you come back?” _

_ “Way to change subjects, H. Still hate Paris. Sorry for the attitude back then, though, I was in a shitty mood. Came with my student organisation again. Last time we were going to Brussels but I had the misfortune to land on Paris this time. What about you?” _

_ “I’m going to the opera tomorrow it’s my graduation gift. I’ve always wanted to see this one.” Harry spoke with excitement clear in his voice. He was evidently passionate about opera. _

_ “What are you going to see, then?” _

_ “It’s Carmen, by French composer Georges Bizet,” Harry explained. “It is a very powerful piece. I’d love to direct it one day.” _

_ As Harry said those words, a dreamy expression on his face, Louis heard his train, which he had completely forgotten about, being announced. _

_ “Shit,” he muttered. “I’ve gotta go, Harry. It was really nice to see you again.” _

_ Louis left in a hurry but he did not miss Harry’s hand, outstretched as if to pull him back towards him. _

  
  
  


** _Tuesday, 11 August 2026 - The Louvre_ **

Back then, the two boys had been so comfortable talking to each other even when they had only seen each other for mere minutes and two years prior.

It was exactly the same now. Both spoke passionately about the art surrounding them. They had started walking around – still in the department of Greek, Etruscan and Roman Antiquities for Louis’ sake, though he did like other styles.

When Harry asked him to go around other exhibitions, Louis informed him that he had to wait for his friend in this area.

“Why don’t you just text him, Lou?” Harry innocently enquired.

“Because the fucker dropped my phone in the Seine yesterday,” Louis replied, feigning petulance and pouting up at Harry. At Harry’s raised eyebrow, he huffed. “Fine, he dropped it in a puddle on the bateau-mouche while we were navigating the Seine.” Harry barked out a laugh at that and managed to avoid Louis’ fast hand as he was trying to pull his hair.

“Give me your number, then,” Harry demanded then, despite Louis' raised eyebrow, added with a cheeky wink, “I’ll text you.”

Louis was left a blushing mess as Harry had to go meet his friend, Lima, and that’s how Niall found him several minutes later, still thinking of big hands and the deepest voice. Of course Niall teased Louis all afternoon as they walked the streets of Paris. 

Niall had planned for them to go to the bridges where tourists typically affixed their padlocks to the railings. He told his friend eagerly that he had always wanted to be part of this trend and so he wanted to commemorate his first time in Paris. Louis just looked at him sadly while informing his friend that he was twelve years too late. The custom had indeed disappeared in 2014 after a railing broke due to the weight.

The two friends still went to these bridges, starting with the Pont des Arts as they left the Louvre and had their pictures taken as per Paris City Council’s suggestion. They however did not upload said pictures to the dedicated website; the world had already been a witness to their friendship for half their lives. 

As they left the Pont Neuf on the 1st arrondissement side and took their métro back to the Hôtel Viator, Louis felt a plethora of emotions that he could untangle into two main things: longing for Harry’s refreshing presence and a terrible ache in his feet. All in all this day in Paris was not so bad. He would never admit that to Niall, though.


	8. Chapter 8

** _Tuesday, 11 August 2026_ **

“Thank you guys!” Harry exclaimed, wiping the sweat from his forehead. “That was perfect. Now you just have to do the same on Thursday. Tomorrow you’re free to rest but really, I am immensely grateful to you all for sharing this moment with me.

The musicians surrounding him, his friends, quietly accepted his thanks, smiling. They were very happy to be part of this moment themselves, _ they _ were thankful and honoured, but they knew Harry and his modesty so they kept quiet.

When the four musicians had left, Liam heaved a sigh. “And that’s a wrap! You’d better relax tomorrow too, mate. You don’t want to look a mess on the big day.”

Harry turned to his friend and hugged him, despite the fact that both of them were extremely sweaty. For it was really hot in this rehearsal room, the temperature controller being out of order. 

Despite the heat, Harry was elated. Thursday afternoon was something he had planned for months, Liam alongside him, and he could not wait for the day to come. The cherry on top was Louis had replied to his text and they had been exchanging messages ever since, except of course during rehearsal.

Harry checked his phone for new messages on their way to the hotel and was met with a picture of Louis’ feet as the man seemed to have been soaking in some sort of mud bath. Harry smiled fondly before sending a picture of his own. A gif of a pig. He absolutely did laugh at his own joke though he could picture Louis rolling his eyes. 

Harry could not wait to see Louis again. The very thought made his heart soar and his pulse quicken.

***

** _Wednesday, 12 August 2026_**

Louis woke up to the sunlight streaming into his bedroom. He had been too exhausted when he came back to his hotel room the night before to even bother closing the blinds. He couldn’t check the time either since his mobile was still in the bag of rice, but he was pretty sure that it was well past 10.

Louis groaned as he thought back to Niall’s announcement of their agenda for the day just before they went their separate ways to sleep. “Tomorrow, we’re climbing up the Montmartre Hill to the Sacré Coœur,” Niall had said with so much enthusiasm Louis had wanted to slap him across the face. Niall was lucky Louis had been so tired at the time.

Louis laid a few minutes on his back, eyes closed and finally thought of a good reason to go check on his phone when he recalled giving Harry his number the day before. He lazily made his way to the table near the window and dipped into the rice bag to retrieve the device. He then plugged it in, thinking that surely it had ran out of battery by now. He then turned it on and, sure enough, there was a new text from an unknown number. In fact, all his texts – read or unread – were from unknown numbers. Niall was a dead man.

Harry’s message was easy to find amidst all the others. It read “_ Hey, Lou!!! It’s me. Dunno if you’ll be able to read this though with your phone situation xx _.”

The kisses were the reason for the first smile on Louis’ face that day. He replied with a simple “_ Hey, H. It lives x) _” and went on to check on the device in a more detailed manner. Louis realised that the only thing amiss in his phone were his contact phone numbers as the date and time seemed to be accurate. It was 11:30; it would do.

As soon as he had thought that, Louis heard a knock on his door. Niall was on the other side, a shit eating grin on his face as Louis’ own fell. 

“I came to get you!” he announced loudly. “We have an appointment at 15 o’clock. That leaves us enough time to brunch someplace in the city.” After taking in his friend’s appearance, Niall added “Come on, Lou! Go get ready! Chop, chop!”

“You’d better watch your tone, Horan. I am not looking forward to walking around all day. Why are you so happy about it by the way? I don’t get it,” Louis said grumpily, shaking his head.

Niall just laughed in his face, waving his hand dramatically.

“You didn’t think I was serious, didja? We’re chilling today, man. I’m spent too, plus you need the rest. We’re going to a spa,” he explained, the smile not leaving his face.

Louis could hug the man. He did hug him.

“Alrighty! I’ll be there in ten minutes!”


	9. Chapter 9

** _Wednesday, 12 August 2026_ **

As he lay in bed that night, trying to fall asleep, Louis let the question that had been bugging him all day – all throughout the week, really – even as he got to relax under the hands of experts masseurs, finally wander in his mind, freely.

He had played along for these past few days, as best as he could, letting the interrogation shine through some times, letting the question slip past his lips. Still, Louis had not insisted when he had gotten no response from his friend, albeit he had grumbled a little. Now Louis could not stand being in the dark anymore. It was getting in the way of the beauty sleep Niall had claimed he needed.

Louis finally gave in to temptation and texted Harry.

“ _ So… what about tomorrow? _ ”

He waited a few minutes, his heart seemed ready to part from his body, the irregular beat of it ringing in his ears. Finally his anticipation was put to rest when his phone pinged.

“ _ 11 o’clock, Pont des Arts. _ ”

Louis was puzzled. What was Harry on about? He was startled by another ping from his phone.

“ _ Dress nice! Sweet dreams xx _ ” It simply read. Then something clicked in Louis’ mind. He did not yet have all the pieces together but he was appeased enough to fall asleep now. Not before he sent Harry kisses of his own, though.

  
  
  


** _Thursday, 13 August 2026 _ **

The thirteenth of August 2026 found Louis shouting at his best mate for waking him up at 8 in the morning. Niall merely shot him a toothy smile, happiness radiating from his face. There Louis could also read the fondness and the love he shared with the man.

“Five more minutes, Ni!” Louis whined playful while he buried his head under his pillow, but Niall just pulled it out of his hands. He was not fooled by Louis’ antics, the grin displayed on his face was revealed and that was the only reason his friend let him lay five more minutes in bed. “Room service is bringing breakfast to your room anyway” he provided as a way of explanation.

An hour later, Niall had disappeared to his room to shower and gather his belongings and left Louis to do the same. The sandy brown-haired man took this time to breath and reflect on what today meant to him and what it could possibly have in store for him this year. He felt longing more than ever for his family and wished they were all here with him. At last he was going to see Harry again so that was something Louis was looking forward to.

By half nine they had checked out of the hotel, Niall having apparently taken care of their luggage, seeing as they were nowhere to be seen. In the taxicab though, Louis noticed that his friend had two boxes on his lap. His hand got slapped away when he tried to reach for one of them but the curiosity remained. They were going to pick up their suit, Niall had informed the driver. He chatted with the man – Robert – for the whole duration of the ride, leaving Louis to his thoughts. What could possibly be in those boxes that Niall refused to let him see? 

In what seemed like a few seconds but was actually closer to half an hour, Louis was dressed in his very fitted peach coloured suit. The shirt was a light pink, almost white, and Louis had on his brown dress shoes, which Niall had insisted he take with him to Paris.

Louis was not narcissistic by any means, but even he had to admit he looked quite fetching dressed in such a manner. His friend apparently had a hairstylist and makeup artist come to the shop, which the shop owner was visibly not concerned about judging by the way the man was gushing about Louis along with Niall. What was wrong with these people?! Were they all involved in Niall’s elusive plan? Was Louis the only one in the dark?

Niall had been quick to dress. He just had to pick up the midnight blue suit he had dropped off at the dry-cleaner’s God knows when – it was just next to the tailor’s shop too –, his shoes already on his feet.

To top it all off, Louis’ hair had been styled in a very natural way with a soft fringe that would always guarantee him the attention of men. His eyes were adorned with just a hind of golden eyeshadow and a peach lip balm had been put on his lips by the makeup artist. Louis felt, for lack of a better word, pretty and his best friend confirmed the feeling with a wolf whistle that rang through the shop, causing everyone to turn their heads in Louis’ direction.

Louis had only twenty minutes left until his rendezvous with Harry and he did not even question the fact that Niall was there with him, dressed equally as fancy but still a bit toned down. 

With each passing second, Louis felt more nervous and he was ever so grateful to have Niall by his side. He knew that something tremendous was going to happen today but he still hadn’t figured out everything and Louis had to admit that it was getting to him. 

As the cab finally stopped, Niall just told his friend that whatever was coming, he was sure to love it.


	10. Final Chapter

** _Thursday, 13 August 2026_ **

Niall had evidently asked the taxi driver to drop them off a few streets away from their actual destination. Before Louis had the chance to ask why his Irish friend opened the two boxes he had been carrying along all morning. Inside each box was a flower that Louis recognised as a white zinnia and a peach coloured gerbera. Louis was starting to recognise a pattern there.

“This one’s mine,” Niall said, pointing to the zinnia before pinning him to his lapel. He then did the same to Louis with the gerbera.

“Goodness,” Louis mumbled, feeling in equal measure shocked and awed. 

“What?” was Niall’s reply. 

Louis shook his head, a fond smile plastered on his face, before he gave an explanation. “Zinnias mean  _ thoughts of friends _ and when they’re white they symbolise Goodness. Very fitting, Ni!”

“Thanks mate. I didn’t choose them though,” Niall shrugged. “What does yours mean then?”

A faint blush made its way on Louis’ face and he gently touched the petals of his own flower as he answered his friend, avoiding his gaze. “You are the sunshine of my life.”

***

Everything was ready, everyone was in place. Harry was pleased to see that the Paris City Council had kept their part of the arrangement. His would be honoured in a few weeks.

He looked at all the people surrounding him and felt their shared joy but he was the happiest of all. Five more minutes to wait. He kept checking his watch convulsively, skin alight and pulse racing with excitement.

***

As they finally reached their destination, Louis gasped, his right hand coming up to cover his mouth. There, before him, stood his family. His sisters and brothers were here as well as Dan, Chase and Carlie. All of them had orange blossom on them, the girls woven with their hair and the boys on their lapel. The sight was enough to make Louis’ eyes water.

Harry was there as well, the brightest smile he’d ever witnessed adorning his face, the precious dimples visible even as far as he was. Liam stood beside him, dressed in the same fashion as Niall. On his other side, by the makeshift altar, was Anne, an orange blossom in her hair.

Louis also recognised Gemma among his sisters. The girls all wore peach coloured dresses except for Carlie who had, as per usual, decided to be like her big brother. 

The six year-old girl and the fifteen year-old boy were both wearing a white suit with a black bowtie and neon pink dress shoes and Louis couldn’t help his smirk as he thought of how his daughter had managed to convince her older brother to appear in public with such a flashy colour on.

Louis’ children were radiating with happiness and they looked like angels to him. The anger and frustration had long left his body.

As Louis finally focused his attention on the man waiting for him at the altar, he let the happiness overcome him. Harry looked so beautiful like this – not that he wasn’t gorgeous on a daily basis – but there was something special about this day after all. He had chosen to wear a brand new floral suit, which Louis was very used to. Louis’ blush made a quick comeback, however, as he noticed that the pattern adorning the white suit was not that of flowers but of peaches. Harry seriously needed to get a handle on his obsession with his bum! He nonetheless managed to answer the smirk given to him by the curly-haired beauty standing in the middle of Pont des Arts with his own unimpressed look. He could barely contain his overwhelming sense of joy, however.

Louis had not paid much attention to what was going on around him as he was led by a firm, yet gentle arm towards his future as his family looked on. He had been in some sort of love-trance as soon as he heard the first notes of a song he was very familiar with that he was rediscovering in a new light, with a different sound. His gaze fixed on the intense green that had enticed him from the very first day, Louis had not realised he had started to walk at a quicker pace until he felt Niall pinch his elbow.

“Relax, son,” Dan said, and Louis realised this was not his best friend, the fucker was waiting for him on the other side of Anne. “It’s like you think he’s going to run out on you or something. You do know that’s never gonna happen, right?” 

Louis didn’t turn to his step-father because he now remembered there was an audience watching him, but he couldn’t help his cheeky self from replying “Oh! Didn’t see you there, Dan,” adding quietly, “thanks dad.”

They reached their destination in silence, accompanied only by the sweet music Harry had no doubt arranged especially for this occasion and Louis’ heart that seemed ready to beat out of his chest. Suddenly Louis’ hand was in Harry’s and as the shorter man lifted his head to stare at bright green eyes, he felt like he had a home right there.

***

“Happy anniversary, sweetcheeks,” Harry murmured lovingly.

“Shut up!” Louis whispered, but his smile could not lie, the adoration showing on his face. “Happy anniversary, my love,” he finally relented, taking a hold of Harry’s hand before facing Anne.

Harry could hardly contain his joy, the happiness the man standing beside him before his mother, before his family, made him feel. Oh, how he loved Louis. How precious was the man. Louis looked ethereal. He tried to pay attention to what his mother was saying, she was officiating their wedding after all, but Harry couldn’t help it. He was entirely focused on the gorgeous man, the beautiful human being stood beside him. Liam had to lightly push his shoulder to get him out of his trance. 

“The vows,” his best man whispered when faced with Harry’s lost expression.

Harry gave sheepish smile to his mother who just looked fond. He then turned to face Louis, hand still tied together, smiled his brightest smile at the love of his life before professing his love all over again.

"My Louis, my love, my sweet creature,” the term of endearment earned him a chuckle from the whole audience. “The both of us have a history of fifteen years. I’m pretty sure you hated me the first time we met but  _ I  _ already knew. I knew you would be my future, my always, my forever. I knew you would be my family, my home. I knew that we were meant to be and I am pretty sure I was right.” 

Harry paused, took a breath and took the time to look at every single person present to bear witness to their love. His gaze went back to Louis who, despite the scoffing at his last statement, had tears in his crystal eyes, catching the light and gleaming.

“Here we are today, fifteen years after we met, fourteen years since our first conversation, twelve years after our first date, ten years of marriage and many more to go. Before our friends and family, before our two children, I am telling you once more that you, Louis Tomlinson, are my future. You hold my heart and I trust you to treasure it, as I do yours. I promise to nurture our love always. To let you sleep five more minutes every morning even though you berate me for it everyday. I vow to always be the shoulder you can cry on, and to cry along with you because our children are growing up too fast. I promise to always listen to you, even when we fight because your voice is the melody that goes with the beat of my heart.”

Louis was full on crying at this point, the handkerchief Anne always carried with her in case of emergency finally being used. But Harry was not done yet, his gaze never wavering and his eyes shining down on Louis.

“I promise that even when I am far from home, every sunrise is for you, every sunset belongs to you; my first and last thought will always be of you. My Louis, my love,  _ you _ live forever in my heart.”

***

Harry was an arsehole. How dare he make Louis cry like this in front of everyone they loved. Louis loved him so much.

He took a few breaths to gather himself, then turned to his son, a sickly sweet smile adorning his face.

“Chase, sweetheart, would you mind covering your sister’s ears for a moment?”

“Harry, you are a bastard for making me live this hellish week and letting me think I was not going to see you for our anniversary. I have not prepared anything either since I had absolutely no clue this was going to happen today, thanks to you lot for playing along,” he addressed the whole assembly, his fondness shining through despite his sarcastic tone. 

“I just… I love you so much, and I always will. I love our family, and by that I mean every single person present here with us today. Thank you all for sharing this special time with us both. I feel like the happiest man alive knowing that I get to wake up every morning with you by my side, that I get to kiss you goodnight every night for the rest of my life. I promise to always be by your side, even when you’re halfway across the world, to support you in any of your endeavours. I promise to always dream along with you.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Louis could see his son filming the whole event with a steady hand. His daughter was wearing her biggest smile to date. He was indescribably happy to share this moment with their two children. It felt like they were making promises to Chase and Carlie as well, more so than when they had adopted them.

As he slipped the ring on Harry’s finger, he noticed the smallest change in it, for Harry had withheld his wedding band until this moment. He resolved to check his own ring once the ceremony would be over.

When Anne pronounced them married once again, Louis finally allowed himself to kiss his spouse the way he had wanted to for the past week. Like he knew him. Like he loved him. Under the wolf whistles of their family, the shouting and the jeers, there was only Harry, his husband. Their lips joined in a smile and, in that moment, Louis truly was the happiest man in the world.

Before they left though, Anne asked everyone to stay a few minutes longer as Carlie took the stand.

“My brother is going to give everyone a candle that we are going to light. They’re for grandma Jay and granddad Robin and also my auntie Fizzy,” she recited flawlessly. Even as emotional as her words made him, Louis was so proud of his little girl. “Chase says that they are with us even if we can’t see them and my Dada told me the candles are to say thank you for always being there.”

Chase and Carlie hadn’t had the chance to know neither Jay and Robin, nor Felicity but because of the story their parents told about them, they were still real to them. As real as their other grandparents. As real as all their aunts and their 12 year-old uncle.

By that point, everyone had teary eyes and everyone was smiling. 

As they walked off the bridge, Carlie held her brother’s candle as he cradled his guitar in his arms – where it came from, Louis had no clue. And then he started to sing in his mother tongue.

_ [Quand on n’a que l’amour](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uNMwYZiBFV0) _

_ À s’offrir en partage _

_ Au jour du grand voyage _

_ Qu’est notre grand amour _

_ Quand on n’a que l’amour _

_ Mon amour, toi et moi _

_ Pour qu’éclate de joie _

_ Chaque heure chaque jour _

Louis was not hiding his tears anymore. They all had put so much thought into this day, he felt a bit foolish for being angry at being kept in the dark about it. 

He noticed how Harry had gone as far as to decorate the railings with flowers; Dahlia, forever thine.

His son, his beautiful son, was singing a love song written by his favourite French singer – who was not even French, was what he told everybody.

Anne and Robin had taken care of all the children and Lottie and Gemma had obviously taken over the styling of everyone.

Harry’s musician friends who were also his friends had given another life to the song a younger Harry Styles had written all those years ago, already so in love.

All of this love was well worth pretending to be Louis Tomlinson for a week.

“I love you,” he told his husband once they were off the bridge before pulling him in another bruising kiss.

_ Alors sans avoir rien _

_ Que la force d’aimer _

_ Nous aurons dans nos mains _

_ Amis, le monde entier _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> → “Quand on n’a que l’amour” was written and interpreted by Jacques Brel he was a brilliant – Belgian – singer
> 
> I will not attempt to translate it because poetry is very difficult to translate and I don’t want to tarnish the beauty of these words with a clumsy translation
> 
> To sum it up he tells us than when we have only love to keep us going, when we have only love to face the ugliness of the world, with nothing more than the power of love we can hold the whole world in our hands.
> 
> Ami/Amie commonly means friend but it can mean in a general sense a loved one or, in the case of “mon ami.e,” it can mean my love or my beloved in the past, people used mon ami to call their husband/wife, boyfriend/girlfriend


End file.
